


Going Home

by JediSteampunk



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25391218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediSteampunk/pseuds/JediSteampunk
Summary: “If this is how you want to handle the situation, then leave me out of it! Leave me out of your business, leave me out of your plans, and leave me out of your life!” After screaming her final word with a deathly glare, Sam stormed out, so angry, so irritated and frustrated, nothing else mattered as she marched down the hallway and headed to the elevator. Leaving this place was the only thing on her mind.This is a continuation of my previous works, A Fairytale for a Night and Beach Raiders.Notes after some chapters to highlight hidden references. All characters are from the Webtoon Let's Play by Mongie, which I do not own. Check it out for its nerdy references, awesome story, and Bowser the dog!
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 142





	1. Sunday Calls

**Author's Note:**

> During this next week, I will be busy with special family time, and won't be able to post a new chapter. I promise the Charm content will return soon, and as always, thank you for reading!

"What do you think?" Ruth switched between two different photos of summer dresses, hoping to gauge a good reaction from Jay for one of them.

Jay looked them over. "I think they look better on my floor, personally," he smirked. Ruth kicked him playfully under the table as he laughed from her scrunched up nose.

"You know what I mean, Jay!"

"And I know that my gorgeous girlfriend will look equally amazing in either of these outfits," he grinned, kissing the back of her hand.

"You can't always flirt your way out of these things, you know."

"I'm a man with simple tastes with clothes, Ruth. Wear anything. Either way, I'll see you as beautiful and want to tear it off you."

Ruth laughed. "God, you are like your dad sometimes."

"What do you mean by that?" Jay furrowed his brow a bit, his flirting at bay for a little while.

She switched her phone to the camera. "Come over here, let's just take a selfie." He sighed with defeat and obliged. The couple did a few different poses, experimenting with smiles and kisses and filters galore. Ruth loved sharing her happiness with Jay, and he enjoyed giving her all the love she deserved and more. With busy schedules as doctors, setting the time aside for a date was often a struggle, so every date needed a picture or five to add to their special collages.

In the evening as Ruth cooked up dinner, Jay took a few glances back onto the photos. "Should we send one to my mom? She loves seeing you."

She cracked some pepper onto the chicken. "Yeah, go for it! And send her my screenshots of those dresses while you're at it, she'll be able to tell me which one to buy."

Jay chuckled as he picked the best shot for Mrs. Young to gush over. "If you say so. I still say either way you can't… go wrong…"

"What was that, Jay?" Ruth turned to look at him. Oddly, his eyes were focused on something on her phone that seemed to unsettle him. "Jay? Are you okay?"

He snapped his focus back to his girlfriend. "I… just remembered… I need to make a call."

"Right now? Can it wait?"

"I'll be quick about it, Ruthie… just give me until you're ready to serve, okay?"

"Alright, but make it quick," she conceded. As Ruth turned back to the stove, Jay ducked out of the kitchen and headed to his bedroom, dialing up the number.

A few rings later, the deep voice of his dad came on. "Hello? Jay?"

"Hey Dad," Jay began. "I wanted to ask you something real quick…"

Earlier in the morning, as Sam woke to the sun, her earthy eyes gazed on the glowing soft outline of her boyfriend, a handsome visage that brightened her weekends with every minute she was with him. Did today have to be Sunday? It meant only a precious few hours were left before Charles would be forced to take Samara back to her apartment, unable to touch each other again until Friday night. _'I feel like I'm leaving my Hades behind in the Underworld,' she pondered. 'At least its only a week and not two seasons of the year.'_

Sam started to shuffle her way out of the covers, but his overhanging arm at her waist suddenly tightened from the movement, pinning her against him. She protested with a small moan, testing to see if Charles was awake or snuggling her in his sleep. Two kisses on her neck answered her question. "Where do you think you're going, Bunty?" His sexy voice was still half-tired, straining to wake up.

"I need to shower, Mr. Jones," she hummed back. "Now may I please go?"

"No," he impishly groaned. "If you go now, I'll be cold and all alone."

"Charles," she turned to wrestle away from him to no avail. His lips pressed to hers and started exploring her mouth. His teeth dragged at her bottom lip as he pressed his body close to hers. "No, Charles," she chided. "I need to take a shower. Besides, you're still too tired."

"Nonsense," he weakly argued. "I'm not tired, Miss Young, you're tired." Sam kissed his forehead and slipped from his arms and out of bed. Limply, his eyes shut once more, dragging him back to sleep. These cute little quirks that Sam had learned about Charles made for quite the ride in their hidden relationship. Anytime they were together on the weekends, the touches they cherished were abundant between them. While Charles remained reserved with public displays of affection, behind the closed door of his penthouse he turned into a flirt, happily kissing Sam at nearly every moment possible. Even in the grips of much-needed rest, he would not stop trying to lavishly caress her with his love.

But Sam knew better now. Maybe he would start something now, but later he would be gripping the bridge of his nose all day, wishing he had also taken the time to get some more sleep. And because he deserved those respites as much as she was happy to be loved by him, Sam had now drawn the lines for him in the sand, giving him permission to think for himself as well. Were these moments so little, though? It did take her almost a year to learn about those private habits, and to her, that was already speaking volumes about their strengthening ties. But as Sam took her shower, and reminisced those early excursions compared to now, she still had so many questions about Charles. Does he have family other than his mother? What was she like? What about his father? Did he have any friends in Wales? What was it like for him growing up?

Questions dwindled and echoed in her mind as Sam got out of the shower and dried off. She opened her recently designated "girlfriend drawer" and retrieved her wide-toothed brush to untangle her hair. It still made her smile to think that Charles surprised her one day by showcasing newly vacant spaces he created in the closet, the bathroom, and in his chest of drawers next to the bed. At first, Sam didn't fully comprehend why he did it until he presented a new toothbrush and a copy of his key. "I know it isn't moving in…" he smiled shyly, "but now you won't have to keep carrying a bag when you come to visit." The drawers were filled the next weekend with anything Sam needed.

She counted the months from when they had officially started dating as she brushed her hair. _'Huh,'_ she thought, _'it's been ten months now… almost eleven… is that something couples celebrate?'_ She replaced the brush and searched the bathroom for something to wear. The shirt that Charles had worn at the office was left on the counter, practically begging her to wear it, so she obliged that fantasy without argue. As she snuck back into the bedroom, she crossed over to the chest and dug out a pair of panties to slip on. As if her presence was a siren's call, Charles turned over in the bed and tried to reach her wrist. _"Samara,"_ he whined, "come back to bed." Sam avoided his reach and left him begging. "Samara…" His hand grasped at the air before him to no avail.

"Sorry Charles. I'd love to come to bed, but if I do, then we'll fall back asleep after being passionate and waste our last day together." Charles pouted his lip a little. Sam's point was too well-made for these mornings. "And besides, I need to get Bowser out in a little bit anyway. Or do you want me to make breakfast?"

"I'll take him outside," he volunteered. "I'm in the mood for your cooking."

"I'll get started then," she grinned, heading to the stairs.

"Dressed like that? Oh Samara, you tease me…"

She grinned as she called back. "I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about." Charles licked and bit at his bottom lip as he watched her disappear. He'll have to keep his desires at bay for a little longer…

Starley Pin egg sandwiches had become Sam's newest masterpiece and she loved cooking them up. Coffee brewed as she fried the eggs and toasted the ciabatta buns in the pans. She heard Charles come down the stairs after a shower, calling for Bowser and talking to him. "Bowser," he sang, "you wanna go outside? Huh? Who's a good boy that wants outside?" The terrier's butt wiggles and yaps of approval goaded Charles to keep up the puppy talk as he leashed him and walked outside. Sam smiled. No one besides her will witness these cute exchanges. What if they get a cat?

She mixed up garlic and pepper into the small cut of cream cheese. This was going to be so good! She concentrated on perfecting these egg sandwiches, especially since Charles had not tried them out yet. Grab the buns, cheese is melted on the eggs, just grabbing hot sauce… Charles hardly made a sound as he came up behind her, now back from giving Bowser a walk. Sam's little yelp of surprise escaped her as he gripped her hips with long, slender fingers, his lips caressing that small, soft neck of hers. "Smells so tasty," he smirked.

Sam blushed beet red. "W-well I hope you like it… I know you're not used to egg sandwiches but-"

"I wasn't talking about the eggs, Bunty," he chuckled, "and my hunger has yet to be sated."

"Charles!" Sam wiggled and squirmed in his arms, but _damn_ this man was unrelenting! He held her tighter to him, stroking her with his hands everywhere possible, wandering between her thighs and kneading her breast. She could feel his muscles press against her back, even though he wore one of his casual sweaters, and a certain bulge was forming behind his Charmed brand jeans. Still, Sam argued, "Charles, I don't want your breakfast getting cold…"

Her pleading whimper slowed his movements as another groan rumbled from his throat. Sam could feel his hardening sex against her ass, reflecting his desires and emphasizing his protest. "Samara…"

"I think you'll like it," she offered, trying desperately to change the subject. "It's the ones I told you about from Fowl of Prey."

"And they smell delicious," he sighed. His stomach betrayed him by growling. "Dammit," he grumbled as he turned away. Sam giggled and finished plating the sandwiches, then placed them at the counter, joining him on the barstool.

"So, what am I looking at?" He searched between the layers of ciabatta, lifting it in his hands.

"Fried egg with cheddar cheese melted on top and a dash of hot sauce-"

"Hot sauce?"

"Yes, trust me, hot sauce. And I know you're nervous about that, so I made a special shmear of cream cheese with garlic and pepper-"

"Garlic and pepper…"

"On a buttery toasted ciabatta bun," she finished with a grin. "It tastes amazing." Charles gave her a side eye as he brought the combination to his mouth and took a large bite. Every ingredient merged together with a bit of spice and creamy smoothness from the spread and the runny egg yolk. "Well?" Sam asked, her anticipation nearly driving her mad. Charles chewed, nodding his head in approval.

"Oh my god," he murmured after consuming the bite, "how is that so damn good?"

Sam's victorious chortling and a raised fist helped spread his smile. "Yes! I was hoping you'd enjoy it!" He leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips.

"I especially like the spice," he grinned. "I never thought it would be so savory with this." Unable to speak, especially since she was turning as red as the hot sauce, Sam just bit into her breakfast as Charles chuckled at her adorable expression. As soon as they had finished eating, he didn't allow a moment for Sam to even place the dishes in the sink. He claimed her mouth with his and pulled her onto his lap. "Now I need something sweet," he lulled between seconds of parted lips.

"But Ch-" Sam's protest was silenced again with his heated kisses. Charles lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the couch. "No more excuses, Bunty," he soothed, enchanting her with that sexy voice of his. "You know how much I long for you during the week, and how much I cannot stand being unable to hold you anymore for the sake of our façade." He laid her down and pierced her gaze with his own. "Why are you trying so hard to keep me away? Have I done something? Are you hurt?"

Sam smirked back at him, her eyes dancing with playfulness. "Maybe I'm enjoying being your tease. I like it when you chase me."

"Ah, trying to escape me that much, Samara?" Charles reached behind him to grab something from his back pocket. "Good thing I brought these along with me," a gleam in his eyes stunned her as he revealed a pair of handcuffs from his large palms, dangling the bracelet in front of her.

"Oh but Mr. Jones," she responded with an irresistibly innocent voice that fired him up further, "I swear I've been a good girl for you."

Charles gripped his button-down that she wore and brought her face close to his. "I think you know you've been a bad girl, Bunty," he huskily whispered. "And now I'll have to punish you for it." With one hand on the release latch, Charles deftly opened one bracelet and snapped it around her dainty wrist.

She continued with her act. "Oh please, Mr. Jones… be gentle with me. I was such a good girl, I promise!" He gripped her free wrist and snapped it in place with the other cuff, keeping her hands behind her.

"A good girl? Do you know what offenses you committed so far?" Sam bit her lip and kept silent as he brought his hand to the top button enclosing her. "First, you refuse me in my bed, insisting on taking a shower," he unbuttoned with that first infraction, continuing each button per each sin. "Then you refuse me again when you returned… even having the audacity to dress yourself in front of me…"

"You like watching me do that and you know it…"

"No, Samara… I like watching you _un_ dress _,_ and you know it. And then after all that, you refuse me once more when I came back."

"I was making you breakfast," she squirmed, her now bare breasts jiggling perfectly for him. The shirt fell past her shoulders and down her arms, and now she was harnessed by both the handcuffs and the garment, leaving her little room to move around.

"And it was good," he nonchalantly agreed. "But I was hungry for you and you knew that."

"But Mr. Jones-"

"No more talking," Charles ordered, twisting her around and raising her hips into the air. His fingers hooked at her panties and slipped them down her thighs. "Now you're going to take your punishment, Samara Young." His hand landed with a loud crack against the curve of her ass, sending a sharp echo through the penthouse. Sam gasped and moaned in response, urging him on. "That was for the first offense," his husky voice growled. "You still have four more to go."

"Four?" He slapped her the second time. She gripped her reddening derrière and shivered on impact. Bowser gave a few yips from behind the barrier on the steps before walking upstairs. Even clever Charles thought to lock the dog to the upstairs areas to prevent interruption.

"Make that one more added for talking back," he relished. "That was two. I had one for each time you refused me, which is three times, plus the two times you argued. Add sassing back to me, that totals to six slaps now, so you have four more to go, and it will just keep going with each time you do it. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Jones…"

"Much better," he grinned, rubbing her rear cheek. "Now hold still." One last crack resumed on the first side, a distinct palm print now coming to view. He turned his attention to smacking the other, causing her to mewl and flinch sexily for him. One. Two. Three. Sam smiled back at him, enjoying this little bit of punishment he doled out whenever he became sexually frustrated around her. There were times she would go to his penthouse on a Friday and happily endure several spanks and love bites for each time she was slightly too sexy towards him. Bending over in front of him from dropping a file, bringing herself a little too close to him even in the privacy of his office, even biting her lip at him drove Charles into a frenzy often, and he would diligently take note of each moment to punish her with later.

"Did my teigr bach learn her lesson?" He brushed his fingers along her wet womanhood.

She gave a little theatrical wail. "Yes, Mr. Jones… I promise I learned my lesson!" One of his slender fingers slipped deep within her, his thumb rubbing along the bottom of her crease and towards her asshole as he stroked inside her. Sam rocked onto his finger, begging, "Yes please, Mr. Jones… please give me more."

"You enjoy just this, Bunty? I thought you would want my thick cock inside you."

"Oh _please,_ yes! Oh Mr. Jones, I want it…"

"Want what, my darling? More of this?" He delved another finger within her and directly rimmed her other hole with his thumb. She lifted her head from the couch in an attempt to bring herself closer to his teasing digits, straining for his touch. Leaning closer, Charles hushed against her neck, "Should I just make you cum like this? I can always shove myself into your mouth for my fun." She flinched as his teeth raked along her shoulder.

Sam cried out, "N-no! No, Mr. Jones! I want it inside me!"

"What _specifically,_ my teigr bach? I already have my fingers giving you pleasure. Is that not enough?"

He circled at her inner pleasure center, eliciting more cries of excitement. "No, Mr. Jones! I want you!"

"Me? How?"

"I want your manhood! I want it in my mouth and then deep in between my legs… please, Mr. Jones!"

"Much better…" After he removed his fingers, Charles carefully gripped Sam's shoulders and helped her to sit more upright on her knees. She watched as he walked to the other end of the couch to face her, then unzip his jeans, revealing the word "Charmed" in the lapel of his fly. He taunted her with a twitching bulge beneath his boxer briefs, "Do you want me in your mouth that badly?"

She leaned forward and nuzzled his package, breathing hotly against his sheathed shaft. "Give it to me, Mr. Jones," she cooed with half-lidded eyes. Sam licked the mound with the tip of her tongue. Catching his breath within his throat, his jaw dropped at the shockwave this woman now so keenly was able to send through his entire system with such a tiny touch. He shuddered at it. His face reddened from it. She smiled from watching him. How was she able to cause such reactions when he was the one who was supposed to be control? Wasn't she the innocent one between them? Charles' eyes seemed to dilate as he thrust his pants and boxer briefs to the floor. Gripping the back of her head, he guided his exposed tip into her soft mouth.

And yet, the control was still in her capabilities, and she made it known with each lick. She massaged that sensitive nerve of his with each stroke, and his gasping and moans of pleasure signaled to her that she was doing everything right for him. The intimidated side of her by her actions had disappeared compared to a year ago. Being with Charles made her feel so liberated from the rest of the world, and Sam was eager to show him what he was turning her into; a sexual, wanting woman for him only. He was so close now, she could feel his pulse increase and his rod thicken. Sam dragged her tongue once more along his phallus as she removed herself from him, leaving him breathless and burning.

His eyes claimed her gaze with primal fervor. A guttural voice rose from Charles as he held her chin and possessed her mouth with his kisses. "You are a minx, Samara." He reached behind her and hooked his fingers into her folds. Sam was in his control again, hips squirming for that touch, a craving she wanted to feed over and over again. Charles guided her to lean onto the back of the sofa, lining her hips right in front of his member. "Beg for it," he rasped with gritted teeth.

But she coyly answered, "I thought you were begging for me?" She lifted her arms as far as the handcuffs would allow, his shirt was draping over those curves teasingly. He lifted the material and spanked her again.

"Beg for it…" he hushed into her ear. In truth, his resolve was fading, and Sam could tell. She smirked at him.

"Will you walk away if I don't?"

He clicked his tongue. "Goddamn it, Samara… _Beg_ for it!" Another slap on her ass resounded through the open space. Sam smiled. She's pushed him enough for now…

"Yes, Mr. Jones! Please give it to me! Go deep inside me!" He delved into her with barely a warning. Charles tugged the links between the cuffs, holding her in place as he bucked his hips and smacked into her supple cheeks. Small ripples crossed her skin with every thrust deliciously. Both were huffing and panting as their sweet music lifted through the suite. He reached for her breast to knead and grip. She leaned into him more and slammed her hips back into his. And even though the air conditioning was running, their clean skin began to drip with sweat.

Samara Young was not the same woman anymore, he could feel it. She changed these past months with him, something even he didn't expect would happen. This power control during sex... It was the way he was turned on so often, making her beg and blush so innocently but still yearning for him. Her gentle smile was always assuring he never pushed her too far, and it made their lascivious activities lighthearted.

But as of late, Sam became a vixen. She was surprising him even more with the way she was turning the tables on him, tempting him to bow to her whims. She was his queen, and he was subjecting himself to every order she would give him. This goddess was now sporting different faces that no one would ever expect, being so sweet and disarming at work, but behind closed doors with him, she altered into a siren. And he gladly drowned himself at the sound of her call. "Samara," he gasped, leaning into her, "fuck… I love you…"

"Charles," she breathed, "I love you, too!" His teeth grazed and sank into her shoulder, soon followed with fresh love bites down her back as they burned in their flames. Charles grappled her hips and held her steady, driving himself deeper into Sam, harder, faster, losing himself in heavenly succulence. Their climax hit them with a shudder, riveting through their scorching bodies with each dive until Charles could hardly stand on his feet.

He pulled out and quickly sat next to Sam, clicking the release latch with shaky fingers to set her wrists free. She gratefully grasped them to relieve them of their indents as she shimmied the shirt back over her shoulders. "That… was hot," she smiled in ecstasy. Her blonde companion chuckled, guiding her to his lap, holding her close to his bare frame.

"Hot is an understatement," he slyly kissed her neck. "Samara…" he trailed along her collarbone and back up to her jaw, "how is it you have been captivating me?"

"I thought I have always been enchanting you," she soothed. "It's just now I'm using that power."

"Please don't use it in the office… I don't think I could survive."

She giggled, "Aww, not even a little? I was enjoying ending up with spilt papers. Watching you try to look away from me when I bend over was fun." He gave a small, devilish whack on her rear.

"Remember to keep to work mode, love," he chided. "It's bad enough that I look over my shoulder around Lucy." Sam's tittering muffled as he kissed her deeply. But as he broke away, she could see the honesty in his eyes as he pleaded further. "Please, Samara… I really can't keep doing that unless you plan to change the rules."

"Well… we did get rid of rule six… maybe we should consider it sometime?"

"Let's focus on when your family will learn about us, first."

Sam's head jerked back. "What? You… you want to tell them?"

He nodded with a small smile. "We have been seeing each other for some time now. I think they would appreciate the honesty."

"Charles, my dad will try to… I mean…"

"I know. I'm prepared for it." He reassuringly smiled. "I think I can handle him."

"And Jay?"

"I'll be a perfect gentleman. I'm going to do everything possible to make this work." Sam kissed him lovingly. She was welled up with joy, knowing how much of a step this meant for Charles. Diving deeper with her meant fathoms for him to venture, but for him to be so willing…

A small blush crept their cheeks as their lips parted. "I love you, Charles," Sam hushed.

"I love you, Samara… you are always worth it."

She rested her forehead against his with contented breath. "I should get dressed," she conceded. "I have to get home."

"Let's give Bowser a long walk down the strip first. I have something to pick up, anyway. And besides, I want to spend a little more time with you."

"Sounds good to me…"

The hub of the market streets were bustling like most Sundays as people tried to get one last fun afternoon in before heading home to resume work and school. Charles liked to frequent them for the architecture and the atmospheric reminder of home, and having his girlfriend for company made it that much more enjoyable. He held Sam's hand as she walked her faithful familiar with a smile. Even after their weekend excursions, where that vixen facet emerged only around him, she was still so angelic even now, warming his heart. She was a visage in a cute floral print dress, the purple flowers splashed against black vines on a canvas of white. As the pair wandered and lost themselves in conversations, Charles did his best to keep his destination in mind… but he could easily wander into the lions' den at her guidance if she so wished.

Gratefully, Sam brought him on track when she asked, "So, where did you need to go?"

"Ah, well…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "Just down a bit further. Would you mind waiting for me?"

"Not at all, Charles! I'll get Bowser a drink while we wait."

His apologetic eyes still harbored a secret, she could start to see it. But he started to release her hand. "I won't be long," he promised. Sam watched him as he hurried off, a new energy invigorating his steps that she noticed for a quick second. Bowser yipped at her and started to beg for treats. "Water first," she chided.

She walked to a little café's outside eating area and got a dish of water for the pup to lap up. As a slight breeze came up, she made sure to hold her skirt down, but it gave Charles a picturesque view of his precious Bunty as her hair flitted perfectly around her cheeks. "Samara," he hesitantly approached, "thank you for waiting."

"Charles, is everything okay?"

He gave a nervous smile. "You already know me too well, don't you?"

She bit her lip. "I can't say… there's still so much to learn about you."

"Well, I hope to make sure you learn about as much of me as possible. And make new memories together."

She blushed and averted her eyes. Did he not hear himself just then? "W-what do you mean by that?"

He took a thin, long box from his pocket and opened it for her to see. Sam peeked at the pretty rosy overlapping chain that housed a little silver trinket. She held a hand over her mouth as she gaped at the tiny piece, now making out it's the outline of a delicate sheep. "Charles…" she whispered. He grinned as he took out the charm bracelet and clasped it onto her left wrist.

"It's rose gold and platinum, so if you wish to always wear it, you may." Sam looked into his gentle sky eyes, still too stunned to speak. "I want to add more memories as we continue our relationship, Bunty," he said, touching the little sheep. "And I thought this would be a perfect way to do it… and keep helping me heal from the old memories… if that's alright with you." Sam leapt towards him, searing a kiss of highest approval onto his lips, overjoyed that now their connection was proven with this precious gift.

"I love it," her voice warbled with her rising tears. "I love it and I love you… and I am more than happy to help you keep healing, Charles… I'm so happy to be yours." The elation they shared drew them closer together and the world around them disappeared. Charles suddenly wrapped her in his arms and kissed her once more, giving himself one moment to express this joy he once felt years ago. As they parted their lips, their bubbling bliss lingered with glances and held hands as they left for the day. Mondays were always the worst after weekends like this.


	2. Sudden Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam loves her new gift! Now to think of what Charles would want...

As Sam rode the bus to work, her eyes fixated on the adorable little sheep on its chain. To have such a sweet reminder of her boyfriend's love for her in the open without anyone noticing who its from was a _perfect_ gift. Excitement washed over her as she imagined that adoring smile of his when he would notice it on her wrist. Forget wearing anything new for him, or trying to find reasons to see each other and steal glances. She swore to herself that this trinket was everything to ground her to her office, to keep her sated with their pictures together and the times they would be near each other, but unable to express their love for each other. To have something this precious to physically touch filled her heart with immeasurable joy. How was she ever going to handle receiving new little charms to add? Or any other gifts, if he was thinking of them? What if…

As if her phone could read her mind while scrolling the news feed of her social media page, advertisements with engagement rings flashed before her, catching her eyes for the first time in her life. _'Definitely not,'_ she chided herself. _'I doubt we are anywhere near ready for that.'_ But the memory of his tucked away wedding band from his last marriage came to mind. _'I should try to think of something for him that he could wear to work, too. That way we both can have something small to ground us with!'_

Ideas zipped into her head, along with every pro and con with them. A tie? He couldn't wear that every day. A tie _pin_ could be, however. But does he wear them? What about a necklace for him? Didn't he mention being Catholic once? If so, wearing a little charm on a chain might not be strange for him. Maybe… "Hi Sam," Lucy's voice broke her train of thought. Sam barely noticed she had walked herself to the office and fumbled to answer the receptionist back. "Before you head to your office, Mr. Young wanted to speak to you."

"Oh. Okay, thanks Lucy." The fog of ideas still wafted around her head as she turned to the door, almost to the point where she barely registered the look on her father's face as she greeted him. "Hey Dad, you wanted to…" Sam's clarity returned swiftly as she saw Charles sitting in of the chairs across Mr. Young's desk, distress laced in his eyes at the sight of her, even though he tried his best to be brave in front of his employer.

Samuel Sr. glared at the Welshman from the corner of his eye as he looked over to his daughter. "Samara, please shut the door," he murmured sternly. Sam's eyes went wide and her hand trembled on the handle as she slid the door into the latch. Suddenly, and embarrassingly, she was shrunk into a metaphorical child in trouble before Charles' very eyes as she walked over and sat next to him. His hands also turned into fists and trembled as he fought his instinct to hold her hand, pity resonating from his guilt-ridden expression.

In trepidation, she asked, "Dad… what's going on?" Silently, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it. With a bit of a loud thud that made her flinch, Mr. Young placed the phone in front of her. An image of Jay and Ruth smiled back at her from the screen. "Um… Jay and Ruth? What about-"

"Look in the corner, Samara Young," he growled. Rarely did her father ever get this angry with Sam, and the fact that he was using her full name was sending chills down her spine. Anxiety and Fear loomed behind her, Confrontation licked its salivating fangs wickedly as she looked at the upper left corner of the picture. A blurred visage of two figures resembling her and Charles from yesterday embraced in a kiss.

She gave an exasperated sigh, "What is that supposed to be, Dad? Are you saying that's us?" She did everything possible to feign ignorance, regardless of being incapable of lying to Charles Jones. Mr. Young, on the other hand, had to raise this young woman and there were times she was capable of lying to the point where she practically could get away with murder. Charles raised an eyebrow at that in confusion at Sam, but to most onlookers he would seem shocked at such an accusation. Was Sam able to evade the truth after all?

Undeterred, Samuel Sr. shook his head. "It's heartbreaking that you are so willing to lie like that, Samara," he sighed. "And for that, I may have to punish your actions as well." He swiped to the next picture. Once again, Jay and Ruth were posing just right for the portrait, and the corner image of Sam and Charles was clear as could possibly be. No blurs, no mistake, even Sam's pretty new charm bracelet was visible enough that her father was staring at it right in front of him as her hand went to touch the phone.

They were officially busted. Sam started to shake and hyperventilate, and as she opened her bag to search for her inhaler, Charles no longer resisted to reach over to help. "Samara," he soothed, holding her hand. "Let me help."

"Jones!" Mr. Young boomed with a bark. "Keep your hands to herself!"

"Mr. Young, I'm just getting her inhaler, please!" His retort was enough that Sam's father merely continued to glare as he watched the audacity of this young man brazenly retrieve the item, shake and uncover it, and hand it back to Sam so she could take a puff, her eyes searching his the entire time.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed to Charles, the tears spilling in their tiny waterfalls down her cheeks.

"Samara," Charles reached to wipe a tear away.

 _"Hands to yourself, Jones!"_ The thunder of Mr. Young shook against the walls, causing his employee to flinch away from her.

"Dad!" Sam tried to protest, "he's just concerned for me! Please don't do this!"

Samuel Sr. ignored his daughter and kept his eyes locked on his target. His fists were balled tightly, turning his knuckles white against the desk. "I had made myself _quite clear_ after _last_ time this happened, Jones! And with my _daughter?!_ You _dared_ to use my daughter?!"

Sam stood at that comment, nearly spilling her bag onto the floor. She slapped her hands onto her father's desk, snapping his full attention back to her. "I am right _here,_ Dad," she leered back. "And he does not _use_ me. Charles and I have been in a _relationship_ for almost a year now. We _love_ each other."

His eyes narrowed. He expected to hear that from Sam, but the word "love" ground into his neck and left a knot in its wake. "It does not mean I trust this man any more than you do, Sam."

"Dad, I would hope that you of _all_ people would be more understanding of his feelings for me, considering he doesn't give them out often after his divorce!" Charles winced.

Her father's eyes widened. "What? What divorce?" Sam rose back up and looked to Charles.

"Didn't you say… you told him?"

Charles gazed at her with apologetic eyes. "I told him I had a serious relationship… I didn't say to him that I was married."

Sam's jaw dropped, shocked that she was the one who confessed the truth on accident. "Regardless of all that," Mr. Young spoke, reclaiming the conversation, "I cannot have this continue in my company. Charles Jones, you're immediately fired."

" _Fired?!_ " Sam cried. Charles hung his head with defeat.

"I understand, Mr. Young," he resolved.

The CEO continued, "I want your desk cleaned out immediately." Sam replaced her hands at the desk in the same fashion as before.

"This is _completely_ unfair Dad, and you _know_ it!"

"Samara," her father turned back to her, "this is _business_ and this what happens when you run your business properly!"

"No, _this_ is how you try to run my life and keep me from forming an actual relationship with someone who cares about me!"

"If you are going to take over for me as CEO, Sam, you have to learn the harsh parts of running a company, including letting an employee go, no matter how good they are their job." He sneered at Charles with those last few words.

Sam took a seething breath, "Dad, I don't _want_ to be the next CEO!"

For a minute, the man froze in place, speechless. He hushed, "What?!"

"Samara…" Charles tried to interject before she said more, but she held up her hand towards him to stop him.

She resumed speaking to her father, "I.. do _not…_ want to be the next CEO. I haven't wanted to be that from the beginning! I _never_ wanted to be in your shoes. I always wanted to be an indie game designer, but you _never_ took the time to ask me what I wanted to do with my career."

"But… the promotion? Why did you become his assistant then?"

"I told Charles the same thing at that time, but I _did_ want to learn how I could become more business oriented in order to branch off on my own someday. So he said he would teach me and surprised me by having me promoted."

"You mean to tell me that your promotion was _not_ to show you how to become a CEO?"

"No, it wasn't. But he has taught me everything I know now to put myself out there for what I _really_ want to do it life."

His brow furrowed with boiling anger. "Even so, this does not excuse the fact that he's been using that kindness as an opportunity to get himself closer to you!"

"Well… if you're really going to try and fire Charles for the silly reason that he and I have been dating each other, then I quit!"

"What?!"

"Samara, don-"

"You _heard_ me, Dad! I won't let you do this to him!"

Samuel Sr. saw red. "This is absurd! Did you do this too, Jones?!"

"No, he didn't!" Sam answered for him.

"I won't let you throw away your future, Sam!"

"You can't control my life, Dad!"

"It won't change my mind, young lady!"

"Then I won't change mine!" Both men in the room looked at her in shock as her voice rose and her face reddened further. "If this is how you want to handle the situation, then leave me out of it! Leave me out of your business, leave me out of your plans, and leave me out of your _life!"_ After screaming her final word with a deathly glare, Sam stormed out, so angry, so irritated and frustrated, nothing else mattered as she marched down the hallway and headed to the elevator. Leaving this place was the only thing on her mind.

A moment of silence followed in the office. Charles gathered up Sam's bag, handling her inhaler once more in particular. "I need to help her, sir," he rushed. "I'll get my things shortly."

"You're suspended," He grumbled.

Charles stopped short, examining his boss' heated frown. "Mr. Young? I thought I was fired."

"I'm still keeping it in consideration, trust me on that. In the meantime, you're suspended for three weeks without pay. I'll have Umed take over some of your responsibilities in the meantime. Now get out of my office before I change my mind." With a quick nod, Charles dashed out of the office and rushed to the elevator, no doubt feeling Lucy's gaze the entire time. Sam waited for him at his car, struggling to breathe after exhausting her lungs and pushing herself to yell at her dad.

"Samara," he called, shaking the inhaler again in his hand and giving it to her. She wheezed as her lips had begun to go blue. Once more her savior, Charles sighed with relief as she puffed her medication until she could breathe and calm herself. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Darling, are you alright?"

Sam looked into the crystalline eyes she fell in love with several months ago, almost leaping into his arms with tears trickling again. "Charles, I'm so sorry," she whimpered. "I'm so sorry…"

"No, my seren ddisglair," he hushed, stroking her hair. " _I'm_ the one who is sorry… I should have told you the _real_ truth of what I explained to your father. I should have been more honest… I'm sorry I put you through this…" The two of them embraced in the open for what felt like an eternity, grateful the remaining rush of employees had already passed by and started their day. Trying to explain this after such a heated discussion was _not_ needed right now. He kissed her forehead, tears of his own escaping his eyes. The pressure of his guilt had finally taken its toll on his heart and crushed him to see Sam so hurt from the earlier exchange. After a few more moments he asked, "Shall I take you home?" She nodded into his shoulder.

Bowser was happy to see the humans come home until he noticed Sam's fallen expression as she sat with Charles on her sectional. The faithful terrier mutt leapt up to rest his head on her lap with his biggest puppy eyes, but had to wait patiently for her to start petting his head. Charles kissed her hair. "Would you like me to make some tea?" Sam nodded weakly. As Charles rose to walk around the counter to the kitchen area, he gave a heavy sigh and undid his tie and top button. "I forgot to tell you," he said as he filled the electric kettle with water, "I'm _not_ fired."

Sam perked up a little at that. "You're not?"

"Well… not _yet."_

She frowned, "That doesn't help me much."

"He put me on a three-week suspension without pay," he clarified, searching for the perfect mugs and tea in the cupboards. "So, in essence, I am not fired, but knowing your father, that can always change, sadly."

"And I just quit mine… I just… _quit_ mine." The heft of her words gave her an instant headache. She leaned back and gripped her nose bridge. Scrunching her eyes shut, she groaned, "Why did I _do_ that?"

"Because you wanted to stand up to him," Charles answered. "So you did."

"I shouldn't have done that…"

"Well, whether or not you shouldn't have, I'm still going to support your decision."

Sam let her hand flop onto the cushion and tilted her head towards her boyfriend. "Really?"

"Yes," he smiled haphazardly, equally exhausted already.

"Do you think I should have done that?"

"Probably not," he winced with a furrowed brow. "But as I said, you felt it was right. And sooner or later you were probably going to blow a fuse at him. It's just that the way it came about and the way it happened were completely unexpected."

"You're telling me," she sighed. "So much for telling my family. Now, I just want to go away…" Charles pondered her wish for a moment when the electric kettle had begun to boil. He opened up the tea packets and poured the water into the mugs as Sam finally gave some gentle pats to Bowser's head. Once the cream was retrieved and he held the mug handles with one hand, Charles returned to the sectional and set the items onto the coffee table.

Mustering his courage, he asked, "Samara… do you really want to leave town?"

"Well, not forever…"

"No of course," he smiled. "I mean just for a trip."

"Right now?"

"If you like." The vibrancy of Sam's eyes started returning at the sound of his suggestion.

With a smile she asked, "Where to?"

"I was thinking of taking you… to meet my family."

Sam sat forward with a jerk. "Your family? You mean… in Wales?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

Charles beamed at her surprise with a small laugh. "Yes. I've been meaning to ask you about it… but I was nervous you would refuse."

"Why would I _ever_ refuse the chance to meet your family?"

"I… don't know," he rubbed the back of his neck hesitantly. "I suppose I was fearful that you wouldn't want to take the trip to meet them."

"Charles," Sam assured, putting her hand on his arm, "I've been hoping you would ask me to go with you for some time now. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable about wanting to introduce me to them." His smile widened with hers. Their eyes danced with happiness the more she spoke. "I would _love_ to go with you to Wales and meet your family. It would be such an honor!"

"But… do you really want to go right away?"

"I don't care if the flight is in an hour, let's do this!"

"Wait, Samara… you need a passport, though." Sam stood and leapt around the coffee table to rush into her room. Within a minute, she came back out again, holding the tiny booklet in front of her.

"I have dual citizenship to Canada thanks to my dad," she explained. "So I'm always making sure my passport is up to date. And lucky for us, I had it renewed two years ago. I'm set!"

Charles left his jaw dropped as Sam spoke. A small laugh escaped him, nearly leaving him breathless from her surprise. "Well then, Bunty," he grinned. "If you want, I'll start looking for soonest flight."

~~~

Sam bolted back and forth through her room in her desperate search for anything else she may need. Did she have everything necessary? Prescriptions, extra prescriptions, prescription and insurance cards, clothes, toiletries, identification, dog leash… "Sam?" She jerked her head towards her mother, who stood in the doorway to her room. Sam wasn't too surprised to see her, knowing her dad would have called and asked his caring wife to check on their pumpkin.

"Hey Mom," she hushed. Samantha Young glanced at the suitcase on the bed, which was practically filled to the brim with all the essentials for a long trip. Here it comes.

"Where are you going?"

Sam could lie to her father, but mother knew better on detecting lies from her kids. "Wales…"

"Oh…" The blonde goddess of the Young family walked over to the bed and placed a hand on the case. "Do you have everything you need?"

"I think so? But I haven't travelled across the world before."

"Not a problem, darling," she opened her purse and searched through it. "As long as you have your medications, ID, and passport, you almost can't go wrong. Make sure you keep them on you at all times, especially on the plane." She pulled out her checkbook and a pen and placed them on the nearby dresser.

"Mom please," Sam implored, but the woman had already started scribbling. "What are you doing?"

"Well, it's not every day my daughter gets to go on a trip for something other than college or work, and this is the least we can do to help keep you cushioned on finances until you get back."

"Mom don't-"

"Sweetie, I _insist,"_ she firmly writ as she held the slip towards her. "After what you've been through today, to want to leave home for Wales of all places, let me recompense you somehow."

"But I quit."

"Because your father is being an ass, thanks to your brother also being an ass. Now take this, put in your bank immediately, or I'll wire the money to you." Sam's painful sigh of defeat and rolling eyes were as obvious as the number five thousand on the line. She really wanted to take care of herself on this one, but turning down this money would be harsh on her bank account… Mrs. Young replaced the booklet and pen. "So, your father told me a little bit about what's going on, but I would like to hear more of it from you." She searched the contents of the suitcase with a meticulous touch. "Is it true you're seeing Charles?"

Sam hung her head, the paper fell in her hand to her side with regret. "Are you mad at me, too?"

Her mother laughed. "Not at all, Sweetie! I like Charles a lot, I think he's just the sort of man you would need in your life."

"Even though he's divorced?"

"What's happened in his past only shapes him as the man he is today." She flipped the suitcase shut with satisfaction. "And if the two of you have been seeing each other for a long time, then clearly he has grown into a respectable man, regardless. Besides, unless he treated his ex poorly, which I doubt he did, it's none of my business. And just in case, has he been controlling in any way?"

"Um, no."

"Has he hit you?"

Sam's blush emerged. "W-well.. uhm…"

"Out of anger, Sweetie. Not for sex."

"Oh. Oh! Oh, no… no…"

"Has he been separating you from your friends and acting as if we are enemies to you?"

"Absolutely not, Mom! He's very kind and supportive to me! He doesn't stalk me, he supports my independence, he encourages my gaming and ideas…"

"I thought so. Then I don't think I have anything to worry about."

Confusion twisted her daughter's face. "Just like that?"

Mrs. Young feigned a thought, "Mmmm… yep."

"Then why are Dad and Jay so against him?"

Her mother sighed as she turned back to the case and zip it up. "From what I can tell, our Samuels just have so much love for you it clouds their judgement at times to a fault."

"But its like they hate him… and he's done nothing wrong."

"Oh Sam," her mother cooed. She wrapped her arms around her daughter and stroked her head. "I'm still here for you, and so is Ruth. We'll make it work together somehow." Sam's chest tightened in angst. If only her dad and brother could see the same reasoning as her mom…

She squeezed Mrs. Young back with a prayer. "I hope so." It lingered in the air as they stayed bonded in their hug until Sam's phone chimed with the receipt of a text. She broke from her mom's arms and unlocked the screen.

Charles: I have a kennel and travel dishes for Bowser. I'll be outside in 5 minutes.

Samantha grinned. "Is that him?"

Her daughter turned with a nod. "I already told Ms. Whipple about my trip, and we're taking Bowser with us, would you mind holding my spare key and taking out any food in the fridge that will go bad?"

"Of course. Do you want me to get Bowser ready for you?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mom."

"Of course, Sam. Just promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"When you come home, let's all have dinner together and talk about it. I'll make sure Dad and Jay will be better behaved."

Sam furrowed her brow and bit her lip. "Can I think about it?"

Her mom nodded. "I'll message you."

"Okay… I gotta go, Mom. Thanks again."

"It's not a problem, Sweetie. Have fun in Wales and be safe." She gave her daughter one last hug. "I love you."

"I love you too." With another text sent to her phone announcing Charles' arrival, the ladies worked quickly to get Bowser leashed and send Sam out her door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seren ddisglair: Shining star


	3. Flight Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the flight to Wales, Charles has a lot to talk about.

The white fluff of clouds and vast expanse of the ocean was the only view out of Sam's window. She tried to keep busy on her phone, writing up a quest for Evermake on it and jotting down notes in her journal, but Boredom still sapped at her Motivation, until it was nearly skin and bone. She huffed softly. "These long flights are too much sometimes for me as well," Charles peered at her from the corner of his glasses. He closed the book in his hands and placed it down to stretch his arms.

"I didn't expect them to feel tiring," Sam admitted. "I mean, the checking in part, yeah, but then I thought actually being on the plane would be relaxing, especially since we're in first class."

"I know. Frustrating, isn't it?" She giggled at his exasperating sigh.

"It's silly, but it reminds me of long car rides for family trips."

"I feel the same way, Samara. Its nothing to be ashamed of."

With piqued interest, she asked, "You have been on long family trips?"

A reminiscent fog misted over Charles briefly with memories. He stared off into space, relaxing. "My grandfather often had me along to help with selling his product to other farmers in the countryside. He would have his truck filled to the brim."

' _Wait, is he… telling me about his childhood?'_ Sam scrambled for another question. This was a prime opportunity that could not be wasted. "What did he sell?"

"Wool mostly. And if he didn't have any to sell, there was always feed to purchase."

Her mind went blank. "Wait, your grandfather did what?"

Charles searched Sam's eyes before suppressing a laugh. "I'm sorry Bunty… I never told you my grandparents are farmers, did I?"

Her eyes widened. "Farmers! Oh! So you…?"

"Were practically raised on sheep herding and a few other animal rearing techniques," he answered with the finished thought. "I helped with sheep, goats, pigs, and even a few horses. At least, until I went to University."

"I never expected you were… well…"

Charles' gay laugher bounced from his chest. "Were you thinking the term, 'farm boy?'" Sam's reddening face only caused him to chortle more. A certain farm boy made pirate flashed through her mind, she had to admit. And knowing that her fencing boyfriend was also blonde with "eyes like the sea after a storm" made the imagery incredibly realistic.

She cleared her throat to shake away her distracting Lust emote, before it got too thirsty. "So, your grandparents…" she hesitantly tried to form the question, "are they still living? Or should I not ask that?"

His bright smile was reassuring. "I am quite lucky to say my grandparents are still living and are rather... how do Americans say it… spunky?"

Sam giggled. "What about your parents? I know you message your mom regularly, but what about your dad?"

The endearing smile faded and his eyes turned downcast. Charles sighed, "I apologize, Samara… I now see what you mean in regards to not knowing much about me. I should have told you…"

"Did… did I say something wrong, Charles?"

"No Bunty," he hushed with a gentle shake of his head. "I try to never tell this to anyone… but I don't know who my father actually is."

First learning of the soft, endearing facet of him was breathtaking, but Sam's chest tightened and bound itself up as she felt the pain in his words. "You… don't know?" His long fingers gingerly wrapped around hers. His eyes were melting with love and anguish in their waves.

"It's something we tend to not speak about," he murmured.

She could feel that he was considering just leaving it at that, but as his girlfriend, she was probably bound to find out more, right? "D-Do… do you m-mind telling me about it?" Charles eyes met hers at that. "I-I mean… you d-don't have to if y-you prefer n-not to… I-I just figured… if y-you were up f-for it…"

"I typically prefer not to let anyone know," he icily answered. "I feel it is usually much more my mother's business compared to my own, being it was her experience and I just happen to be a product of it."

Sam flinched. _'I must have gone too far…'_ she thought, her heart sinking deeper and faster into her chest. _'I know I just wanted to learn more about him, but… maybe he isn't ready to open up that part of him…'_

She rubbed at her neck and faced the window. "S-sorry, Charles. I didn't mean to offend you."

His jaw unclenched at the sight of her retreat. Even her hand was no longer in his. He could almost hear his mother's voice chiding him. _'Dammit, Charles… you know better than to be this way to your Bunty.'_

"In actuality," he softly started, "considering you are going to meet her, and we have been together for some time now… it would be reasonable for you to learn about it." Sam turned back to him, but her frown still rested on her face. "I think its only fair you hear about from me, especially," he assured. She nodded in return, and Charles began.

"It happened when my mother was a young woman. She grew up in the countryside, and my grandparents raised her to be a modest person. She told me she hardly ever brought a boy around, fearful her father would be ready to pull a shotgun on him or something."

Sam stifled a laugh. "Sounds like my dad."

He laughed as well. "I noticed... Anyway, after growing up in the country, she went to the city of Llandudno for University. She told me that she was rather diligent in her studies, but decided that while on holiday she would go to a party. While she was there, a young man from overseas met her." Sam's expression held the next question she wanted so badly to ask, but Charles shook his head again. "She never asked him where he was from and he never said. She knew his accent was something quite different such as American, but she wasn't in the mood to find out, either."

Newfound courage prompted her to ask, "Did he at least attend the same college as her?"

"He did, but he was studying abroad and was headed back a day or two later. Mother didn't mind any of it, however. She had been left by her previous boyfriend just before she went to Uni and wanted to have one night with another man that would have no commitments."

Her eyes widened. "Oh my god… that must have been a shock."

Charles nodded. "She found out in the middle of the following semester the reason she had been feeling ill so often was due to morning sickness. Mother had no choice but to call her parents and tell them what was going on."

"That sounds terrifying."

"She told me it felt like the worst day of her life, but not because of them. They were surprised at the news and disappointed there was no father to claim, but my grandparents were actually quite supportive of her. They wanted to give her the opportunity to finish her degree and were willing to do anything to help. So, my mother finished the semester, then left the Uni to give birth to me. After I turned a year old, she left me in the care of my grandparents to finish her studies."

Sam's jaw dropped in shock. "Wait, what? She left you to be raised by your grandparents?"

His tone softened the more they relaxed into the conversation. "For a few years," Charles answered. "You must understand Bunty, even though I was unexpected, my grandparents were happy to keep me for a while. Not only did it give me the love and care required for a young child, but it also helped keep my mother firmly tied to her classes. To all of them, her success was the most important piece for taking me back and raising me on her own one day."

"Still, you must have missed her…"

"I did, very much. But she always took the time to call on the weekends to talk to me on the phone. And during her breaks, she came to the farm to visit me. In the end, the hard work she put into herself eventually paid off. After she graduated and received a new teaching position, she worked very hard to get a small flat and have me live with her full time. A few years later, she earned enough to buy a house for us. She now lives right on the edge of the city and still teaches to young children."

As the mental montage filmed through her mind, Sam could see the other facets of Charles shining brighter the more they were revealed. Pictures of a young boy coping without his mother through the love of his fosters flickered and ignited new understandings of his respect for women and the values he upheld. Even the gentlemanly charm he exhibited could be pictured so easily with another young woman as they reached adulthood… Sam's eyebrows tented and a half-hearted smile appeared. "That's so sweet of your grandparents, Charles… and your mom… I can't imagine the bravery she must have had to keep her resolve. She's an incredible person."

Charles' brow furrowed. "If that's the way you feel, Samara, why do you sound so sad?"

She clung to herself, fingers burrowing into her favorite cardigan as she considered his question. "Charles… w-will your mom… like me?"

"I think she's going to love you, Bunty." His fingertips massaged small circles on her hand. "Why on earth would she not?"

"Because… I don't know…"

"You need to do better than that to shake me."

Sam sighed. "Well… I know that you were m-married once… a-and she must have been special to you and your mom… what if… what if I'm not good enough, even a-as your g-girlfriend, in your mom's eyes?"

The air escaped them as each word lingered in agonizing reverie, and it was difficult for Charles to break the silence as he mulled over her words. "It's true, Gweneth was special to us… and it hurt my mother terribly to hear that we were divorcing… and why…" he guided her hand from the material confines, allowing his fingers to intertwine with hers again, "but _you,_ Samara Young, have a kind heart, a caring and thoughtful soul, and you have the sweetest disposition I have ever witnessed, as well as a growing pair of bunting horns to match. Gwen is Gwen, and she doesn't belong to me any more. But you are here with me now… and that is something I am grateful for every day I see you… and especially in this moment."

Her eyes scrunched painfully as she asked, "Charles… You did tell your mom I'm coming, right?"

He eyes went wide. "Cachu," he hissed to himself. Sam's disappointed eyes peered back. Lip pouted and shoulders hunching, she started to feel smaller and sheepish from his reaction.

"Does she… even know I exist?" If the first pause between them was tortuous, this one became deafening. He couldn't bear to look in her earthy orbs and even bit his own lip, unsure of what to say. But Sam could tell his answer. To soften the blow, she offered, "Well, we did agree never to tell someone about us without talking to each other first, with rule 4... And you never mentioned wanting to tell her."

"Please forgive me Bunty," he implored. "It quite honestly had been on my mind for some time, but I wanted the opportunity to visit as well. She is a woman who wants to learn about someone I fancy in person, rather than just over a screen." Charles searched her gaze for a sign of forgiveness, which she gave with a small smile. But he still averted his eyes after seeing the slight reprieve. He continued, "Though, I will admit, I have been considering telling my mother and deciding against it for some months now."

Sam pondered this, and bit her lip before asking, "Is it something to do with me? Or… is it because of your ex?"

He squeezed her hand gently. "Samara, please believe me when I say it is _nothing_ to do with you in a negative aspect. If anything, it's because you are such a beacon of hope for me that I was too frightened to tell anyone about you." He kissed her knuckles, nuzzling them delicately. "You could say it has more to do with my ex-wife… after I left Wales and decided to remain single, I grew accustomed to lying to my mother about my possibly dating again. She rarely asked to begin with, but I just told her I wasn't ready or I wanted to remain focused with work. They were both true, but I also kept thinking of how happy she was to see me with Gwen. And then to see her so depressed alongside me for quite some time, because she could see I still wasn't happy… the last thing I ever wanted to do was bring up anyone being special to me in my life, because if I did… and if things didn't work… I'd see her hurting for me again."

The light in his eyes glazed over as he recounted the gut-wrenching moments after he discovered his wife and best friend in their throes of passion. How he left the house and nearly drove like a lethargic drunk on the road, how he nearly crashed head-first into an oncoming car, and the blaring horn snapping him into the moment, hearing the distant curses of the other driver as he braked on the side of the road. Then veering towards the familiar drive of his mother's home, her small figure popping out of the house to see the color drained from her son's face. Hot tears erupted. He got out of the car and fell to his knees. He was wailing loudly, even the neighbors could hear. "Charles, love? What's the matter, son?"

"Charles?" Sam's voice returned him to the present, but tears seemed to form in the corners of his eyes. "Are you okay?"

Before he could answer, the plane intercom pinged softly over the speakers. "During this portion of the flight, we will now be closing the shades and turning down the lights, in order to help passengers sleep and adjust to the time change…"

"We better get some rest, Bunty," Charles spoke as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He started reclining his seat when he said, "We'll talk more later." Sam followed his lead, tilting her seat back as far as she could and removing her glasses. Now it made sense why Charles took his contacts out, so that he didn't sleep in them. Being in first class also had some handsome perks, including not having another passenger directly behind you for times like this…

She whispered, "Charles?"

"What is it, Samara?"

"You know I'll never leave you, right?" Skies met earth once again as their orbs glanced, a heavy sleep beckoning for their lids to close. Charles brought his hand back over hers once more.

"Without a doubt, love," he hushed, kissing her hand. "Sleep well." There was a little comfort in Sam wishing she could fully believe his words as her eyes shut, but that infernal Self-Doubt niggled her brain as the lights dimmed and she shifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Farm boy: in reference to The Princess Bride, in which Buttercup calls Westley "farm boy" up until the point where he confesses his love to her.
> 
> • Cachu: Shit


	4. Meeting Mam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has comes to meet Charles' mother!

Lucy Wright hardly ever had such a shocked expression, or stayed quiet for long, but when the yelling erupted from Samuel Sr.’s office, and from _Sam_ no less, and then _Sam_ stormed out the door, Lucy's jaw was dropped and frozen in place. Umed came up to the receptionist’s desk and was about to speak, when Charles ran out next, with Sam's bag in hand and a worrisome expression.

“Okay…” Umed noted as their General Manager disappeared, “that was definitely weird.”

“Don't I know it,” Lucy whispered.

Umed checked over his shoulder at the other employees, but they preferred to keep to their screens and avoid any after effects of the wrath of their CEO. He hushed, “Lucy, I never ask these things, but what the hell happened?”

“Excuse me, Umed?” Samuel's voice called from the doorway of his office. Umed flinched in terror.

“Y-yes sir?”

“Is it a bad time? I'd like to have a minute to discuss something important with you.”   
“Uh, s-sure thing…” As the men disappeared back into the office, Lucy sent a text to Sam, checking to see if she was okay. But there was no response.

As the hours passed and the lunch hour approached, Lucy silently sat at the cafeteria table with her tray, checking her phone for the hundredth time by now, her brow wrinkling with fear that Sam still had sent nothing. Maybe she should use that tracker app Mr. Young had installed? No, if she did that, then her boss would probably go after her, and it was obvious from what she said, Sam wanted space away from him.

“Okay, that does it,” Umed set down his tray and sat across from Lucy, abruptly removing her from her thoughts. “I don't know what happened, but whatever it is, it somehow landed me with Charles' work for the next three weeks. So now I am curious as hell as to what you may know.”

She glanced around and murmured, “You sure you really want me to say?”

He sighed. “Not entirely. But I know you were able to overhear everything perfectly. And I also know you are just as worried about Sam as I am, so it might be good for you to talk about it with someone who won't say a word about it. Just… please don't say anything to anyone else, okay?”

Lucy looked around once more. “Umed, you are not going to believe what I heard. And I swear, you're the only person I trust with this…”

  
~~~

  
Sam murmured as she helped Charles remove the last of the suitcases from the back of the cab, “Is it me, or are people staring at us when they walk by?”

Charles thanked the driver in his native tongue, giving him a handsome tip for the help. As the car drove away, he returned to the conversation. “It's because of me,” he answered. “Some of them still recognize me from growing up here.”

Sam took a moment to look up and down the suburban street as Bowser sniffed about in the grasses. The cobblestone street felt ancient, lined with electric lampposts that were also fashioned with an antique look. The houses varied in several sizes and shapes, but the fairytale cottage feel resonated with each of them, unlike the row houses she anticipated. Tudor, Cottage, French, and Victorian styles stood proudly with a sophistication she had seen occasionally in California, but here it was in abundance. Each had their own yard that was fitted perfectly, trimmed and even bordered with their own brick wall or hedge, with a small garden of pretty flowers blossoming vibrantly. Each were all well cared for. “It's so beautiful here,” Sam awed. Bowser yipped in approval.

“I'm glad you both like it,” Charles smiled. “This is the one right here.” He pointed to a Tudor-styled home, with umber bricks and ivory stucco framing around a heavy wooden door that was painted a vibrant teal to bring a fresh pop of color. Sam could hardly contain her excitement as she followed Charles down the brick walkway, up the foyer steps to see a cozy front porch area hidden by the brick wall in front. He walked right in without a knock, calling inside, “Mam, dwi'n gartref!” No answer came.

Sam searched the house in bewilderment as she removed her shoes and set them aside. Charles did the same, calling once more, “Mam?” Bowser sniffed around with perked ears.

“This place is adorable!” Sam squealed in delight. The house had so much character from the large beams on the ceiling to the fireplace she could make out in the nearby living room. Even the kitchen had the perfects touches from marble countertops to beautiful cabinets, painted the same as the front door, and a pair of French doors leading out into the back yard.

“It used to be quite different,” Charles explained as they moved into the living room. “She put a lot of effort into renovations when I was in my teens.”

“I'd love to do something like that someday,” she sighed. “I love the idea of taking an old house no one wants and turning it into something beautiful and customized. And everything in here is just… wow…”

“Mrrrowr?” The soft purr of a cat caught Sam and Bowser's attentions, especially the plush pup when he saw the cat was twice as big and fluffy compared to him. He yipped with bugged out eyes.

“Hello, Angel,” Charles greeted the tall feline, kneeling for her. “How are you, princess?” The furry baby went straight for him, sniffing his glasses and nuzzling his face with a deep, resounding purr.

“She's huge…” Sam examined the pretty Angel before her. Not only was this gorgeous cat quite sizeable, along with having white fur with silvery stripes, but her ocean eyes matched Charles' orbs perfectly.

“She's a Maine Coon mix. Much bigger than your typical housecat, but very friendly.” Angel double-backed towards Sam, who knelt down in return.

“Hi Angel,” she chirped, holding out her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Angel purred and nuzzled right into Sam's hand. Her fur was luxuriously soft like her Welshman's hair.

“When I told my mother I was leaving for America, I brought Angel to her as a present. She's been looking after her ever since,” his tone changed as he addressed the cat, “and you are doing such a good job, aren't you, girl? Yes, you are.” Angel chirped back over her shoulder with a smile. Bowser stood frozen in fear of the feline until she pranced over to him and, after a small sniff, started to lick the top of Bowser's head.

“See Bowser?” Sam giggled. “Not all bigger animals are mean.” Bowser remained astute at first, but Angel's purring and cuddling soon soothed him until he felt comfortable enough to sit and sniff back.

“Angel,” a voice called from the kitchen from the now opened French doors, “wyt ti yma?” A small woman walked inside, gasping at the sight of people in her home. Charles stood with a grin.

“Mam,” he greeted. “dwi'n gartref!” Mam Jones smiled as wide as possible, almost bouncing with joy as her son crossed over to her, surrounded her with his arms and lifted her in the air with a hug.

“Charles!” Her voice rang like a bell, even with a thick accent. “Rydw I mor hapus i'ch gweld chi!”

Sam stared with a dropped jaw as she stood up. _‘This is Mrs- no… Miss Jones??’_ Charles set the woman down, who continued to speak, “Charles, roeddwn i'n meddwl y byddech chi'n dod adref yfory! Rydych chi'n lwcus does gen I ddim gwesteion heno neu fel arall ni fyddai'ch ystafell wedi bod ar gael I chi.”

“Mam,” he protested, “slow down, please! You know I have trouble understanding you when you speak too fast.”

“Oh? Still that tough for you to speak your native tongue, is it?” Sam chortled at the mother teasing her son, which shifted Mam Jones' attention instantly with wide eyes. “Charles, who is this young lady?”

The sudden spotlight made her Anxiety flutter everywhere, but Sam approached with an outstretched, albeit shaky, hand. “I-it's a pleasure to m-meet you, Miss Jones,” she smiled with a sweaty brow. Now that Sam walked up to her, she could clearly see just how easily Charles was able to pick her up. The middle-aged woman was a few inches shorter than Sam, and had become slightly plump since her youth. And although her strawberry blonde hair was vibrant, a few strands of gray had begun to appear among them. And yet, the most striking feature were her blue eyes. They were not quite the same vibrant color as her son's, but their centers seemed to have a yellow hue that spread to look like sunflowers.

Miss Jones regarded Sam's hand as she accepted it with her own. “A pleasure to meet you, dear. And you are?”

“Mam,” Charles interjected, “this is Samara Young. She is… my girlfriend.”

She jolted. “Girlfriend?? As in a serious girlfriend??”

He sighed, “Yes, Mam, she is a serious girlfriend.” The woman covered her gaping mouth with her hands as she studied Sam some more.

“Since when??”

Charles hesitated. “For... several months now...”

She sneered and caused her giant of a son to flinch as she poked his sides. “And you didn't even bother to tell your own Mammy?”

He squealed with each ticklish poke. “Mam, please!” But his begging was ignored and the lady was unrelenting! “Mam, I'm sorry!” Bowser yipped with worry.

Mam Jones stopped and exclaimed, “Oh! You got yourself a dog?”

“Actually,” Sam spoke, “that's my dog. His name is Bowser.”

“What an adorable name,” she tittered, bringing her hand close for a pat. “And I see you met my Angel, too.” Bowser accepted the woman's head pats as Angel purred and rubbed her cheek against her human's hand. “Do forgive my excited behavior, Miss Young,” she continued. “It isn't every day my son comes home to visit his Mammy after leaving for America.”

“O-oh, you can just call me Sam, Miss Jones. E-everyone does.”

“Oh? Even my Charles?”

“U-um, well…”

Charles placed a hand on her shoulder as he spoke, “Samara and I agreed it was much more comfortable for both of us if I called her by her full name, Mam. Though, it's true, her friends and family call her by Sam because she is not usually the most comfortable with them on the subject.”

“Well, Miss Young, would you prefer if I do the same as your friends? I must say, I rather like your full name. It's so unique and beautiful, like yourself.”

Sam blushed instantly. _‘Charles certainly takes after his sweet mother,’_ she noted. “I-I must admit, Charles has g-gotten me used to being called b-by Samara. I w-wouldn't mind if you did as well.”

Miss Jones beamed at such an honor. “Well then, Samara,” she happily took her hand, “I insist you call me by name as well. I am Rhiannon Jones.”

“Rhiannon,” Sam murmured, trying out the name on her lips, “I… am truly honored to meet you.” In that moment, her Anxiety melted away into a puddle.

Rhiannon's grin caused a few thin wrinkles appear on the edges of her face. “So Samara, I anticipate you are staying here with Charles, then?”

“Uuuuuhm, I mean… if that's okay…?” Charles' face went flush at the awkward question his mother posed.

She giggled, “Don't worry, dear. I am not so old-fashioned to think that nothing of that nature could be going on between you two. And you're both in luck. His room is all cleaned and ready for guests. How about you two take your things upstairs while I make some tea?”

“Sounds wonderfu-”

“Rhiannon,” a deep voice called. The shuffling of two bodies entered through the front door as a man's voice continued, “Rhiannon, rydyn ni yma!” An elder couple stopped short to see the most interesting sight before them. The man with gray hair and gray blue eyes exclaimed. “Wel, croeso yn ôl, ti bach cachu!”

Rhiannon exclaimed, “Tad!”

Charles grinned, “Hello, Taid,” he replied, then nodded to the woman, “Hello Nain.”

The man nodded towards Sam. “Pwy yw'r ddynes ifanc hon?”

Charles reached over to his confused Bunty and held her hand. “Grandfather,” he spoke proudly, “this is Samara Young. She is my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” The couple spoke with raised brows.

Sam turned to Charles with shock. He tenderly smiled to her. “Samara, these are my grandparents.”

She looked back to them, despite a lump forming in her throat. Anxiety itched her skin. “N-nice to m-meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Jones.”

A familiar smile Taid Jones seemed to share with his grandson formed. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Young.”

“Oh, um… please… call me Samara.” She could feel her boyfriend's eyebrows raise at that. _‘She actually went to sharing her full name with them as well?’_

“Then please, Samara,” the gentleman stepped forward, extending his hand, “call me Bennett. And this lovely lady by my side is my beautiful bride, Delyth.”

Nain Jones playfully hit her husband's shoulder. “Your bride for only fifty years,” she scoffed with a smile.

Bennett shook his head. “Fifty-three years, love. And you are always my bride to me.”

Delyth ignored her husband and went to shake Sam's hand, trying to move past the subject. “So good to meet you, dearie,” her hazel eyes sparkled softly. Her graying hair swayed along her shoulders, a few brunette streaks still streaming with the silver locks.

“Well then,” Rhiannon spoke, “I should make some tea. Biscuits, anyone?”

Bennett nodded. “If you would you please, Rhiannon?”

Charles suddenly yawned, which he tried to hide, but was unable to in time. His mother put a hand on his arm. “Are you still tired, son? I forgot you just came from an overnight flight.”

“Sorry, Mam,” he frowned, rubbing his neck. Sam joined in with a yawn of her own. Charles bunted his forehead on hers. “You're tired too, aren't you?”

Sam blushed lightly. “Just a bit…”

Bennett patted his grandson's shoulder. “Have yourselves a rest, you two. We'll be around for a cuppa tea and go to the pub for dinner. I think we need ourselves a plate of fish and chips.”

“Very well then, Taid,” he nodded. “We'll be upstairs.”

“ _Just_ resting, Cachu Bach.”

His friendly expression stiffened. “Yes, you nosy parker, just resting.”

“Tad, leave them be,” Rhainnon shook her head at her father, then turned back to the young couple. “Have a good sleep, you two.”

“Thank you, Mam…” Charles wrapped his arm around Sam's waist, imploring her to walk with him as the elders went to sit in the kitchen.

The upstairs bedroom that once belonged to Charles was much bigger than Sam anticipated. What she thought would be an untouched boy’s room was now a spacious refurbished attic space, with large windows and skylights. One set of windows was another pair of French doors, leading to a small balcony. It was the perfect size for a small table and two chairs, permitting for a couple to sit and enjoy a small breakfast on in the mornings. The rest of the bedroom itself was rather sparse, with simple furnishings and a queen sized bed. A side door led to a full en suite bathroom, with modern and welcoming finishes. A fresh set of towels and washcloths were left aside on the dresser, where a sign on the wall behind it read, “Please inform me of any spare toiletries you may need. Thank you for your stay!”

Sam looked over the sign. “’Thank you for your stay?’ Is this is a BnB?”

Charles set down the suitcase and opened the dresser drawer to unload the contents. “It is,” he answered. “Ever since I moved out, Mam has been running a FlightBnB out of my old room for some extra money. Lucky for us, no one booked here during our time to stay.”

“But Charles, we're staying for two and a half weeks. I'd hate to put your mom out of any cash.”

He chuckled, “Don't worry, Bunty. Even as her child I do not make myself exempt from her rate. I paid for it entirely. Besides, the money isn't all just for her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most of her profits go to Taid and Nain as a gift. That way they have a bit more money for retirement.”

Sam gasped, “That's so sweet of her!”

He finished the one suitcase and looked at her with a smile. “Mam told me she always wanted to thank them for raising me and allowing her to finish University. When I started getting into some money of my own, I also felt it was more than fair to help add to their retirement fund as well, if they ever get around to doing it.” He moved on to emptying the next suitcase.

“You think that they won't?”

Another slight laugh escaped. “Taid thinks he can work until the end of his days, which, I can see him doing. But Nain wants to travel and enjoy more time off with him soon. We'll have to see how that turns out.” He finished emptying the suitcase as Sam released Bowser from his leash. The chunky pup found a clean doggy pillow in the corner and plopped himself on it with exhaustion. Sam cuddled up in the queen sized bed, removing her glasses and laying them on the bookshelf headboard.

“This feels so much better than the plane,” she yawned.

Charles laid next to her with a groan, removing his spectacles and setting them in a shelf above his head. “Indeed… I'm glad Mam purchased a comfy mattress for this bed…”

Sam giggled. “You poor thing. You didn't sleep well, either?”

“No, I didn't… and not because of the lack of a mattress.”

“Then why?”

He turned over, draping his arm around her and pulling her close. “Because I couldn't snuggle with you, my Bunty.”

“Charles…” she blushed. “You're so cute when you're tired.”

“And you're so adorable when you're nervous,” he guided her left wrist to his lips, her little sheep charm jingling softly as he kissed her skin. “And my family adores you already, I can tell.”

“Really?”

“Very much so.”

She yawned again. “I'm so glad…”

“Let's get some rest, Bunty… We need it…” Sam began to drift instantly, ready for a little more sleep. _‘Looks like I'm not the only one who missed snuggling like this,’_ he thought, falling asleep as well. _‘I can't wait for them to love her as much as I do.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Mam/Mammy: Mom, Mother/Mommy  
> • Mam, dwi'n gartref!: Mom, I'm home!  
> • Angel, wyt ti yma?: Angel, are you in here?  
> • Rydw I mor hapus i'ch gweld chi!: I'm so happy to see you!  
> • Charles, roeddwn i'n meddwl y byddech chi'n dod adref yfory! Rydych chi'n lwcus does gen I ddim gwesteion heno neu fel arall ni fyddai'ch ystafell wedi bod ar gael I chi. : Charles, I thought you would be coming home tomorrow! You're lucky I don't have any guests tonight or otherwise your room would not have been available.  
> • Rhiannon, rydyn ni yma!: Rhiannon, we're here!  
> • Wel, croeso yn ôl, ti bach cachu!: Well, welcome home, you little shit!  
> • Taid: Grandfather  
> • Nain: Grandmother  
> • Pwy yw'r ddynes ifanc hon?: Who is this young lady?  
> • Cachu Bach: Little Shit  
> • FlightBnB: AirBnb, you know, those places where people rent out rooms or a whole house for people to stay at for travelling or vacation


	5. As the Youngs Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Youngs are going through a lot of emotions, including Sam properly introducing herself to the Jones family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During this next week, I will be busy with special family time, and won't be able to post a new chapter. I promise the Charm content will return soon, and as always, thank you for reading!

“Wales?! She ran off to Wales?? With _him?!”_ Samuel Sr.’s reaction only received a glare back from Samantha, but the disgruntled CEO continued acting as though no one else was in the room as he growled and paced with fury. “He acts like he owns my company, does whatever he pleases as long as his job goes well, and now he runs off with Samara…”  
  
Jay stood in place his father and interrogated his mother with crossed his arms, “Did she at least take her phone with her? What about her meds? Do we even have a way to check in on her?” Jay's reaction made Ruth's eyes roll up to her furrowed brow as she watched the drama.  
  
“You do realize Samara is a grown woman, right?” Samantha's cross tone sent a flinch down her son's neck, but he refused to give up.  
  
“Mom, you don't understand. Charles-”  
  
“Is a man who had relations with Eva, when she was working for YT, and then when he ended things with her, she became angry and ended up being fired by him.” As Mrs. Young cut him off, her stern gaze bored deeper into him. “I _know_ all about it, Jay.”  
  
As Jay backed down, Mr. Young attempted to approach. “B-but, dear-”  
  
“Don't you ‘but dear’ me, Samuel Young,” she hissed.  
  
“But Mom-” Jay winced next when he was met his her deathly glare.  
  
“ _You_ , Samuel Young Jr., are in even greater trouble right now compared to your father's overreaction,” she lectured with a pointed finger.  
  
His head jerked back in confusion. “Me? What did I do?”  
  
“Other than ruin your sister's trust?” Ruth now stepped in, hands at her hips and thoroughly upset at her boyfriend. “I honestly can't believe what you did, Jay! She's your sister, for crying out loud! You couldn't talk to her about this first _before_ blabbing to your dad about her business?”  
  
Jay scoffed. “Ruth, I'm sorry to disagree, but Sam's business concerning _Charles_ of all people _is_ our business.”  
  
Her jaw dropped. “Do you even hear yourself? How would you like it if Sam was the same way with us? Or if I had a sibling who did the same with you?”  
  
“Ruthie, after what Charles did to Eva, he has no right to be anywhere near Sam.”  
  
“He's right,” Papa Young spoke. “Eva was his assistant. We hired her as a means of starting to bring in her father's company as a client of ours. Mr. Lawson insisted that his daughter needed corporate experience in America before working for his law firm. I thought I could trust Charles to give her some real training, and they quickly became close friends. Eva was confident in her work, and business was thriving for us. But then she suddenly changed… thanks to Jones.”  
  
Ruth sighed. “Mr. Young, I understand that your company is extremely important, and how much work you put into it to keep everything running smoothly, especially for your loving family. But I don't understand how it's Charles' fault.”  
  
Samuel Sr. rubbed at his stressed forehead. Jay decided to speak further. “Ruth… Charles got into a relationship with Eva and then broke things off with her.”  
  
“So? Stuff like this happens all the time.”  
  
“Ruthie, this was different. Essentially, Jones was being a friend with benefits towards Eva. When she started feeling something more for him, he cut everything off with her. And to make matters worse, he started acting so coldly towards her, Eva started getting angry and acting out at the office. She was still getting her work done, but trying to get over your boss in a situation like that… I can't imagine what it was like for her.”  
  
“That may be the case, but in my opinion, as a woman, she should have known what she was getting herself into with him.”  
  
“And as a man, _he_ should've never tried to be with her in the first place. Ruth, the guy acts like a gentleman, but in reality, he'd rather use women for his benefit rather than just keep it in his pants.”  
  
Samantha interjected, “Jay, don't be disgusting!”  
  
“It's the truth, Mom! Dad told me all about it! It drove Eva insane, which made working for Charles unbearable and her job suffered for it. Then Jones ended up firing her, and it nearly cost Dad the entire business with Mr. Lawson's firm!”  
  
Mama Young waved off the argument. “Even if we would have lost their business, we would have been just fine. Your father is much more resourceful than you may think, Jay.”  
  
“Mom, it still wasn't right what he put everyone through. Dad was terrified that Eva would come back with her dad's law firm and a civil suit on his desk! If it hadn't been for Eva defending the company, Young Technologies probably would have gone belly up going to court!”  
  
“And now he's run off with my Sam,” his father murmured. “Oh god… what if he tries to elope with her?”  
  
“Put that thought out of your head, Samuel,” Samantha sighed. "You and I both know that's not the case."  
  
“But what if he coerced her to leave us or-”  
  
“Samuel! That will be enough!” Now both her husband and her son looked sick with worry about what this petite woman would say next. Her forest eyes were now venomous towards them. “I spoke to Samara before they left, and she promised to meet up with us for dinner to discuss things further when they return. I know our daughter wouldn't break a promise like that with me and I already said to her I would text her about it. So when they come home, we are going to be cordial and welcoming to the _both_ of them.”  
  
The Samuels asked at the same time, “ _Both?_ ”  
  
Samantha snapped, “Yes, both! Do either of you have a problem with that?” The father and son duo looked at each other in defeat. There was no overstepping the queen of this house. “Good,” she continued. “I will message her once I know what days are free for all of us to meet up. And yes, that _includes_ Charles. We'll make a reservation at our favorite sushi place so that we can have a private room and freely discuss their relationship. We may all ask whatever questions we have of them, but my rule for you two is that you _must_ listen with open minds to their answers, however difficult they may be to hear. It's the least we can do for Charles and Samara as an apology for this debacle. And speaking of apologies, I expect the both of you to dish them up, especially to Sam.”  
  
A stunned Jay responded, “What?”  
  
Mrs. Young turned to her husband. “And Honey, I expect you to also apologize to Charles.”  
  
“Apologize?? To Jones??” Mr. Young began to see red, but his wife's eyes chilled him to his bones.  
  
“Yes! You _will_ apologize! And you darn well know why!” She took a deep breath and released it slowly, hoping she wasn't causing herself to get gray hairs. “Clearly, you both are still a pair of hotheads after what happened today and right now is not a good time to continue this discussion.”  
  
Her son tried to approach once more. “Mom, please, it's just that-”  
  
“I said, it is _not_ a good time,” she reiterated coldly. “And I think you should go home, Jay.”  
  
“But-”  
  
“Let's _go_ , Jay,” Ruth insisted next. “I'm tired and want to get back to my place.”  
  
Now Jay’s attention turned to her. “Aren't you… going to stay at my place today?”  
  
Her expression went dark. “I have a headache and an earlier shift tomorrow. I need to go back to my bed tonight.”  
  
Confused and hurt by her words, Jay relented with a nod. “Okay, Ruthie…”  
  
Ruth looked over to Samantha with an understanding smile. “Mrs. Young, Jay and I already have our schedules lined up for the next month. Would you like me to text you some free days?”  
  
Samantha returned the softened gaze. At least _someone_ understood her upset. “That sounds lovely, Ruth! Text me a time, okay?”  
  
“Will do! See you then!” The ladies turned back to each of their gents with a final glare before walking past them, storm clouds seemed to boom from within them. Jay and Samuel looked at each other, both father and son knowing they were in deep trouble.  
“I gotta go,” Jay spoke with regret.  
  
“I'll see you later, son,” Mr. Young agreed. With a quick goodbye, Jay turned and went to walk out the door. This was going to be a long week and an even longer night.  
  
~~~  
  
The growl of her stomach woke her from the trenches of sleep. Sam sat up and stretched as the glow of the sunset touched her skin and casted the angelic silhouette Charles loved to see every time she rose next to him. He reached for her hips with a comforting smile and stroked her thighs through her jeans. “Good evening,” he murmured.  
  
Sam smiled back with a simple “Hey.”  
  
“You look even more enticing here, Bunty… being in Wales is a good look on you.”  
  
“How Californian for you to say, Mr. Jones.” They reached towards each other for a languid kiss, but savoring it was quickly interrupted by another resounding gurgle of a hungry stomach, this time by his embarrassment, leaving him bright red in his cheeks, but still grinning like a kid. Sam giggled. “We better get going, anyway. Aren't your grandparents and mom waiting for us?”  
  
He sat up with his own stretch. “I imagine they are. And I think I know exactly where they went.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
Charles stood and ruffled his fingers through his messy locks in the mirror. “Whenever Taid wants fish and chips he always goes to the same pub that's been open since his youth. And it so happens that its close to here.”  
  
“How close?”  
  
“Just a short walk, if you don't mind.”  
  
“Not at all! Give me a few minutes and I'll be ready to go.” Charles nodded and went to grab his bath items to shave the 5 o'clock shadow that threatened to emerge from his jawline. Sam brushed through her hair and riffled through her purse to check her phone. Emergency calls only? Perplexed, she peered into the en suite. “Um, Charles?”  
  
“Yes, Bunty?” He gently set the razor down, leaving a bare track of skin, and gazed at her with the mirror.  
  
“My phone doesn't work. Is this normal?”  
  
His eyes squeezed shut, frustrated with himself. “Ah, I forgot to tell you about that. Since we travelled across the world, your phone has to readjust according to its carrier. It typically takes a few days and then the phone will be able to get a signal again. Do you need to reach someone?”  
  
“Um… no. Not right away. I'm going to finish getting ready.” Sam rushed back towards her purse, but after a short pause, chose to leave her cell on the nightstand. _‘If I can't even use it, then there's no point in taking it with me,’_ she decided. _‘Besides… I have bigger things to worry about. What is the Jones family going to ask me?’_ She took as many steadying breaths as possible, stuffing her inhaler away in her cardigan just to be safe.  
  
Almost instantly after Charles had shut the door, familiar faces from his childhood gave a nod and a short greeting as an elder couple walked on. More faces looked from their yards and doorways as the blonde traversed the street with Sam's arm wrapped in his. Curious, she hushed, “How many people in the neighborhood know you?”  
  
He shrugged. “Several, I imagine. Mam is well known here for her kind spirit and her reputation as a school teacher is outstanding. Add the fact that she overcame most societal statistics around single mothers and here I am, her son who only wants to make her proud, and so many neighbors got to know us in a flash.”  
  
Another small group of people gave a small shout, this time younger and close to his age. Sam just watched his reactions intently as he called back, continuing to lead her in the city streets. As they parted, she timidly asked, “Should… should I do anything? Like give a wave or something?”  
  
“Don't worry about anyone, Bunty, just keep walking with me.”  
  
“I feel like they want to talk to you, though… and maybe ask about me.”  
  
“True, but my mother and grandparents are waiting for us, so we really cannot dally long. And in truth, I honestly don't want to go through that headache right now.”  
  
She paused at that, but her next question was tugging her chest tighter. “…I'm a headache?”  
  
He stopped walking to gaze down towards her. “Oh never, Samara! I didn't mean to sound insensitive… I'm so sorry.”  
  
Sam's doe eyes met with his. “No, it's okay… I took that too personally. But… would you please tell me what you meant by that?”  
  
Charles sighed. “Everyone here knows me… and I always cherished that growing up… but then after I found Gwen with my friend… the first thing I did was run home to Mam. And within days, everyone could tell something was wrong. If I left home, I would be stopped by a neighbor or old friend asking what was going on, and eventually everyone found out Gwen and I were divorcing... You know how on social media if someone learns of your dirty secrets people may randomly comment on whatever is going on?”  
  
She nodded. Of course, she knew that feeling all too well thanks to Marshall when he first played her game. Charles continued, “It was like that… but everyone looks at you with either this expression of disgust… or pity. If it was disgust, I knew I could no longer call that person a friend. If it was pity… I think it felt much worse.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because now I seemed like a lost little boy to them, probably. Even though they meant well, my dignity was shattered. I was no longer the golden boy Charles Jones who was a capable man with a pretty new wife and a future with her… I was now the divorcee who was left by his wife and ran to America to escape my memories.” His eyes were downcast at his words, old memories of his neighbors bubbling up in the form of tears. Their forlorn expressions and forced smiles offered little comfort to him each time he retold the news, and the old sting of their faces threatened to unleash the welling sobs. But a tug on his arm urged him to gaze upon earthy eyes... Sam's eyes… and a small smile began to trace back onto his face.  
  
“W-we should be going, right?” Sam’s anxious suggestion spurred her on, so she took the first step to return their walk. “Your family is waiting for us.” His hand stopped her from moving as he placed it at her waist and drew her closer once more. Charles gave in to his sudden urge to kiss her tender lips, and Sam graciously accepted it. It felt so freeing to allow themselves to be vulnerable as much as it had felt painfully tense a moment ago.  
  
As their lips parted, Charles whispered lowly, “Thank you for hearing me, Samara… I love you.”  
  
She smiled. “I love you, Charles… shall we?”  
  
“Just this way,” he said with a nod towards their direction. Up the street just past a few more buildings, and they were soon walking into an old brick tavern with weathered, thick beams. The interior had been fixed up over years, being passed down from one generation to the next. Sepia and colored family photos lined the entry foyer, where a seating host waited for them.  
  
“Oh my god,” the young man exclaimed. “Is that you, Charles? Come on in, mate! Your Mam and her parents are their usual spot.” Charles gave a courteous thanks as he and Sam casually walked past, leading her to the usual booth.  
  
“There you are, you two!” Rhiannon stood first, giving her son another hug. “We're about to get our drinks. Come sit!”  
  
“We didn't keep you waiting, did we Mam?” Charles started shuffling in, with Sam right behind.  
  
“Not at all,” she said as she settled in.  
  
“Now its time to answer some questions, Cachu Bach,” his Taid smirked. Nain and Mam Jones rolled their eyes and shook their heads.  
  
Sam piped up, “Before he does, can I ask what ‘cachu bach’ means?” The ladies giggled.  
  
Rhiannon leaned over and whispered, “It means little shit.”  
  
Sam snickered as her boyfriend's face reddened. She teased, “Should I ask why that nickname?”  
  
Bennett stifled a laugh. “Oh, he didn't tell you about his first few years helping me on the farm, did he? Charles tried to be a know-it-all helping me with the sheep.”  
  
Mischief lit her eyes as she asked, “What did he do?”  
  
The elder man grinned. “The lad tried to grab one of the lambs, but he charged right at her when he was doing it. The little bunty charged back and stuffed him right to the ground in the manure pile.” All the ladies, including Sam, chortled at the thought as the old man kept on about the stain in the small boy's pants and how he even managed to get shit in his hair, so much so that he needed several washes in order to get the mess out.  
  
At the butt of this old joke, Charles squeezed the bridge of his nose, but kept smiling. Saved by the grace of the waitress coming by, everyone settled back their laughter to order their food and drinks. But as soon as she walked away, Rhiannon nudged Sam's arm. “Now Samara, dearie, I must know… how did you and my son meet?”  
  
The American girl froze and blushed as it dawned on her she was the center of attention. _‘Oh, that's right,’_ she thought as her Anxiety started to kick in again, shining the spotlight on her, _‘They don't know anything about us…’_ Sam cleared her throat, praying she wouldn't dissolve into a blob as she attempted to form words. “Well, we met when I got hired,” she started slowly. “Charles… is actually my boss.”  
  
The eyes of the Jones women seemed to sparkle at that. “You're boss?? Oooh, so romantic,” they cooed.  
  
Grandfather Jones laughed as Charles buried his crimson face in both hands. “Oh god,” he murmured.  
  
“Tell us more,” his mother pressed. “What's he like at work? Does he wear his glasses? Is he still slicking his hair back?”  
  
“Mam!”  
  
“I'm merely asking, Charles,” she grinned at him.  
  
“I'm actually quite curious of that as well,” Delyth joined in. “He used to keep his look like it normally is now, so when we found him on that LinktIn website, we could hardly believe it was really him!”  
  
Charles went for his pint as though it were his shield. “It's a professional look…”  
  
Sam shrugged her shoulders in close as she answered, “It is, actually… Charles is always dressed sharply and takes his job as General Manager seriously. I actually used to think didn't care so much about me compared to the work getting done.”  
  
“Sounds like him,” Bennett agreed. “Always finding the best way to solve the problem, is he?” Sam nodded. “So what's _your_ position at the company, Samara?”  
  
“Oh… well, I’ve been his assistant for almost a year.”  
  
The ladies nearly jumped in their seats, their voices once again in unison. “His assistant??” With their attention and a barrage of questions and comments directed at Charles, Sam drank her water to cool her sweating brow. It barely helped.  
  
“Hang on,” said Rhiannon, furrowing her brow, “Charles, what's the name of the company you work for again? It's Young Technologies, isn't it?”  
  
Charles pressed his lips together, but answered all the same, “Yes, Mam…”  
  
“And you told me, your boss is the CEO, the owner, correct?”  
  
“…He is.” A confused Bennett and Delyth followed their daughter's questioning, seeing that their grandson and his new girlfriend were beginning to resemble the red hot burners on a stove. Averting eyes and sweaty brows were also dead giveaways to a harboring secret.  
  
Mam Jones raised a brow. “Samara… I don't suppose your last name also being Young is coincidental, is it?”  
  
Sam looked at every pair of owlish eyes at the table that eagerly awaited her answer. “Um… no. The CEO… is my dad.”  
  
Mouths dropped open. The ladies exclaimed in tandem, “Oh my god!”  
  
Bennett grinned and nudged his grandson's arm. “Your boss's daughter? Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em, don't you?”  
  
“Trust me, I never saw it coming myself,” Charles mumbled. The bustle of chattering, particularly between the mother and daughter duo, slowed with the arrival of food at last, but the mouthfuls of savory fish, lamb, and chicken didn't stop the family from asking more questions.  
  
“Samara, dear,” Delyth began, “what is it like working for your father and Charles? I know how much our angel strives for perfection at his job, I hope he doesn't push you too hard.”  
  
Sam gave a soft laugh, melting at the subtle nickname that her boyfriend clearly blushed at. “Actually, working for Charles has been much better for me compared to when I was first hired.”  
  
“Really? How so?”  
  
“Well, Dad has always been a bit protective of me,” she admitted, rubbing her neck. Charles stifled a laugh, his eyes devilishly glinting back to her. “Okay, he's _overly_ protective,” she confessed, grinning back at him. “Dad wants me to be the next CEO of Young Technologies, so when I started working, he made all sorts of arrangements on my behalf.”  
  
Bennett raised a brow. “What sorts of arrangements?”  
  
Charles answered, “He made certain I knew how to perform CPR, then moved the entire department to the first floor and installed a state-of-the-art ventilation system, all before she graduated college.”  
  
“Whatever for? That is, if you don't mind my asking.”  
  
“Not at all,” Sam cheerily spoke. “My dad can be a bit emotional… but he does have a good reason for it. I was actually born prematurely.”  
  
“Oh goodness,” Delyth placed a hand to her chest. “By how long?”  
  
“About… three and a half months.”  
  
Her jaw dropped. “Oh fy nuw.”  
  
“I know, it's tough to think about. I'm just glad the worst of it happened in my early childhood. But it does make my dad concerned if I end up with anything… even a fever. So when I started working for him, I stayed in a cubicle for my first year of work.”  
  
Rhiannon’s interest piqued. “So how did you start working as Charles' assistant?”  
Sam blushed, but smiled at the memory. “Well… I wanted to treat him to lunch one day-”  
  
“You asked _him_ out first? Son!”  
  
“Mam, no!” Charles protested, knowing his mother was about to accuse him for not being a proper gentleman.  
  
Sam giggled again. “Trust me, Rhiannon, your son virtuously asked me out first, but I had to turn him down for other plans, so I wanted to make it up to him.”  
  
Mam Jones gave a warm smile to Sam for that. “My apologies, Samara. Would you please continue?”  
  
She smiled back, “Of course! So when Charles and I went to lunch, he actually talked to me about what his first impressions were of me, versus my skills in data and coding. For the first time in a year, we were being really honest with each other, and that's when I told him my dreams of being an Indie Game Developer.”  
  
Everyone stared at her once she said that. Bennett took the lead and asked, “But didn't you say you're becoming a CEO?” It gave everyone pause at the awkward question, but it had to be addressed, and the young lady in question looked to Charles. With a small nod, she mentally granted him permission to answer on her behalf.  
  
“Taid,” his trepid voice broke the silence. “Samara would make for quite a company leader, I can certainly attest to that… However, it had been decided by Mr. Young to establish her as the future CEO on her behalf… without asking Samara first. To make matters worse, she was quite unprepared to even begin taking leadership, let alone try to become a businesswoman of a company. As we talked, I then offered to help teach her to be more business savvy. In order to obtain that, I spoke to her father and secured her a promotion to being my assistant.”  
  
Although the explanation was succinct, it was still insufficient to the elder Mr. Jones. “Charles, it's quite admirable how you help Samara to grow in her career, but I can't help thinking something is missing in all this. Why did you two make a sudden trip out here?”  
  
Charles sighed and furrowed his brow, but Sam spoke the answer for him. “My dad tried to fire him,” she said plainly, raising everyone's brows once more. “Dad doesn't trust Charles- ...no, actually, he doesn't trust _any_ guy, to be anywhere near me to be in a relationship. And it doesn't help my older brother, Jay, acts just like him with his ‘always guard Sam’ attitude...” The Jones family seemed a little confused yet, but patiently listened as she sighed and kept going. “I guess my brother and his girlfriend were on a date and they were taking pictures of themselves on a phone. Apparently, they also caught Charles and I in the corner of it. But instead of talking to me, he decided to tell my dad, who then blew it completely out of proportion.”  
  
Delyth inquired, “How so?”  
  
“He got angry with Charles, accusing him of using me, and said he was fired. Next thing I know, I got into an argument with him, and I quit my job in the heat of the moment.”  
  
“I then suggested bringing Samara here,” Charles continued, placing his hand over hers. “I had been meaning to tell all of you about her, and to meet her in person.”  
  
“Well… that is a shame,” Nain Jones tentatively responded. “I didn't think you could be sacked for something so trivial nowadays. And now the both of you have no jobs.”  
  
Charles assured, “Don't worry, Nain. Samara may have actually saved mine.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Bennett raised a brow. “I'm confused as well.”  
  
Their grandson explained, “When Samara stood up to Mr. Young, and quit her job, he then decided to put me on suspension instead… for the time being. I may still have to deal with some severe consequences upon our return, but for now, I'm still employed. As for Samara…” Charles looked in her earthy eyes as he spoke, “whatever she decides, I will fully support her, whether she wishes to work for her father again, or pursue her dream career.” A grateful grin spread across Sam's cheeks as he spoke, dusting them with a bit of blush as well.  
  
“Well we certainly didn't expect it like this,” Rhiannon smiled, breaking the small silence. “However, I am elated to have the both of you. And Samara, I am most excited to learn more about you during your stay.”  
  
Delyth nodded in agreement. “I think we navigated the rough questions enough. I'm interested in learning a little more about that pudgy dog of yours, dearie!”  
  
“I'd like to hear more about what you studied in University,” Bennett chimed in. “And what sorts of hobbies you like.”  
  
Rhiannon piped up again, “Samara, you said you wanted to be an Indie Game Developer. Have you made any games yet?”  
  
Charles’ eyes lit up at his Mam's question. “Actually, Mam, Samara did make a puzzle game.”  
  
Everyone awed instantly. Mam Jones asked, “A puzzle game? What is it called?”  
  
Sam grinned as she answered back, “Ruminate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LinktIn: LinkedIn, a social media platform focused on business professionals being able to network with one another


	6. My Mind in a Whirlwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have some sobering news, everyone.

Hi friends,

I apologize in advance that after waiting so patiently for more fanfiction, I am disappointing you by not giving you another chapter. Instead, I am announcing that I am taking a much longer break than I anticipated. Believe me, I wish I didn't feel like I had to, especially after everything I had written so far, but in all honesty my writing was one of my escapes from the harshness of reality when my depression was sinking in, and today I had been forced to face it again.

Before the pandemic had struck, my mental limits were already being tested with a mountain of a journey that was coming to fruition; I was losing my mother to Alzheimer's. In order to be with her and my dad through her journey's end, I left my husband and children to stay with them until after her funeral. I knew this would be difficult to deal with, considering I had been seeing her change for several years and there was nothing we could do, and when I returned home my depression clouded me for weeks on end. It didn't help that just months later, we lost another close family member as well, my sister-in-law.

During this time I had turned to reading and writing fanfiction to ease and distract my mind from my depression and anxiety. Through it, I found a community on Discord who I cherish very much. They encouraged my work and gave me ideas, and just chatting about our love of our fandoms made me laugh and smile despite my dark storm cloud. Eventually, I started to see daylight again even with a pandemic.

Unfortunately, my family has now been affected by the virus. Because of it, I need to take a mental health break for a while. I'm not sure how long it will be before I revisit this story and finish it, but I wanted to tell you all thank you for reading my stories and enjoying them. I hope to come back again and complete it soon.

Sincerely,

JediSteampunk

**Author's Note:**

> • Hades: Greek god who rules the Underworld and fell in love with a goddess named Persephone. If you want to read an awesome modern version of this ancient story, check out Lore Olympus on Webtoon!
> 
> • Starley Pin: Harley Quinn, an anti-hero of the Batman universe that has taken films by storm thanks to the awesome acting of Margot Robbie. Want to know how to make her famous egg sandwich from her last film? Check out the recipe here:
> 
> • Harley Quinn egg sandwiches
> 
> • Buttered toasted ciabatta
> 
> • Fried egg
> 
> • American Cheese (But I highly recommend Cheddar cheese)
> 
> • A drizzle of hot sauce
> 
> • And if you want to add some shmear from Einstein bagels to cut the burn on the hot sauce: Plain Cream cheese, a bit of garlic, and black pepper
> 
> • Charmed brand jeans: Lucky brand jeans. Fun fact, when you open the fly of men's Lucky brand jeans they say "Lucky you"
> 
> • Fowl of Prey: Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey, the latest (and best) movie with the iconic villain
> 
> • Teigr bach: Little tiger
> 
> Special thanks to my discord peeps for coming up with charm bracelet concept!


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